Veiled Innocence (Book One, The Soul Cycle) (46 page)

His head snapped up at her clipped tone. “How am I supposed to know?” he shot back
.
“You know more than me, seeing as how you’ve lived
over
a thousand years or so.”

What an arrogant child he is.
She stared him down, fire and ice, until he finally looked away and stomped behind a pillar where she couldn’t see him. She grinned. She hated to admit it, but their little spats made her feel human in some small way. Anger was such a delicious emotion.

“Besides,” he said, voice muffled from the pillar. “I thought you knew what you were doing. Should
n’t he be dead? W
hat happened?”

“I don’t know!” She pressed her lips together in a tight line. No one had dared speak to her that way. Ever. Not as an empress, and especially not as an immortal death dealer.  

“Well, someone must know,” he said. “Do you think that Lord Winter
man
would help us?”

“Tch. Doubtful.”

He stepped out from behind the pillar, arms crossed and a scowl on his face. “We have to find Alastor somehow.”

“Yes,
somehow
being the key word.”

He stared at her. “Really?”

She blinked, glaring at him. “Really
what
?”

“
T
hat’s it then? You’re just going to give up?”

“
Now you’re being delusional,” she said, but straightened her shoulders all the same.
“I’m merely suggesting we think this through.”

Rowan blew his breath out in a rush and placed his hands behind his head. He paced in front of her, mumbling, “Sure, take your sweet time while the world goes to hell.” 

She
stared at the floor, as if by doing so the answer would magically appear before her. She tried to remember what
the necklace
looked like. A delicate crystal chain encased
a
white
crystal in a backdrop of
lacy silverwork. 

Opaque white crystal…

Her head snapped up
,
and she reached to her thigh and removed the blade she had taken from the thief boy she’d killed when she went after Gerard.

She
held it up to the light. Something was etched in the stone, jagged lines of varying peaks.

Peaks.

“It’s a map,” she muttered.

Rowan stopped pacing. “What did you just say?”

“It’s a map.” She held the knife up to him. “The necklace has the same crystal that’s in this blade. I think it’s the key to figuring out how to defeat Alastor.”

“How hard did you hit your head?”

“Think! Where have you seen this crystal before?”

He closed his eyes
,
and his forehead creased. He mumbled to
himself as he thought out loud, and
she grew more irritable with each passing second. Then his eyes shot open. “The Crystal Mountains! Of course! Wh
y didn’t I think of it before?”

“Where are these mountains? I’ve never heard of them.”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “They are to the north, as far as one can go in Eresea before you reach the Ocean of Ice. They are called the Crystal Mountains because all through the year the mountains remain encased in thick ice, giving the appearance of crystal. My mother used to tell me fables of how a legendary race of beings known as the Inrah discovered a cavern filled with marvelous crystals that enabled them to tap into the Inner Light, an ancient form of magic that has been lost since the Age of Stars.”

Inner Light.
That sounded familiar. “
Go on.”

“There’s not much more to tell,” he said. “I can’t recall
anything much
beyond that. I was very young at the time.” His voice ended on a bitter note, but she ignored it and pushed on. 

“So, you think the chain was made from these magical crystals?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know. I wish I could remember more of the legend. I do know they say the entrance to the mountains is guarded by King Aruna, ruler of the Zimarian lands that the mountain sits on. Perhaps he would know something about the crystals. Maybe we should start there.”

“What of the Inrah?”

He shrugged. “Extinct, as far as I know.
No one knows exactly what became of them.
”

They stood together in silence, each lost to their own thoughts.

“Well, at any rate, we should get out of here while we can. He could have more of those things lurking around.”

She
smiled, and she cocked her head to the side.
“
‘
Those things.
’
Is your father a thing?”

His face turned to stone
,
and a hard glint shone like daggers in his eyes. “He’s the enemy. Nothing more.”

“Good. It will make the task ahead that much easier.”

Rowan sighed. “Getting to Zimaria will be no small feat. We’ll need horses, not to mention provisions, and a lot of it. It’s at least a month long journey.”

She
frowned. “We don’t have that much time.”

“I suppose you have a better idea?”

She smiled. “We are at the largest trading port this side of the continent. Why not barter passage onto a merchant ship? It will cut our journey in half.”

“I don’t know if any routes will take us that far north. The Zimarians are sort of reclusive. I don’t even know if they still trade with anyone anymore. Besides, do you have any idea what that’s going to cost?”

She
flicked the bag dangling from her belt. “We do have a satchel of saffurite, courtesy of the murdels.”

He eyed it. “Fine.” Then he picked up his sword and stormed down the stairs, not waiting to see if she followed.

She
started after him when a white flash caught her eye. The ivory bow
laid
next the wall across from her. She walked over and tenderly picked it up, hanging it and the quiver over her shoulder. 
Keep her safe, Erebus.

“Are you coming or not?”

Rowan stood
by the main entrance
, tapping his foot
.

She
looked at his posture and couldn’t help but smile.

Draxonus
would ha
ve acted exactly the same way.

Then she shook her head and bounded down the stairwell, following Rowan out the door as the sun’s first light striped the sky gold and white.

END OF BOOK ONE

The battle for Eresea continues
in
Darkest Destiny,
Book 2 of
The Soul Cycle.

Coming
S
oon

***

Liked
Veiled Innocence
? Turn the page to read the first chapter of

A White So Red: A Gothic Fairy Tale Retelling

Seventeen-year-old Snow’s life changed forever the night her stepmother, the Queen, sent her huntsman to cut out her heart. Fleeing for her life, Snow runs to the Silver Forest, a place as dangerous as it is enchanting, and begins an adventure she could never have dreamed.

With no one at her side but a rowdy band of carnivorous dwarves and an arrogant, rogue prince who is too handsome for his own good, Snow must confront the challenge that’s been laid before her: Kill the Queen and take back the kingdom that should have been hers.

But if she is to succeed, Snow will have to tap into a powerful, ancient magic, one that may have been sleeping inside her all along.

***

Chapter One

Tears of Blood

COLD, ROUGH STONES SCRAPED
Natalia’s bare feet as the guards all but dragged her down the empty corridor. Their pace was quick, and the guards’ obsidian chain mail clanked much too loudly for her ears, fueling the headache erupting within her skull. Shapeless thoughts and memories of yesterday’s grueling chore agenda occupied her mind, which was still foggy with sleep. The morning air chapped her throat, hastening her awake while whispering that winter was not far off.

They sharply turned a corner toward a set of massive black doors carved with filigree and a swirling flock of ravens.

Her heart pitched to the bottom of her stomach, and her eyes widened. She felt her cheeks cool as the blood left her face, and a small tremble settled into her limbs.

The guards barreled toward the doors, which opened for them as they dragged her through and marched up the crimson rug that bled through the center of the large, circular room. She knew from memory that the stone walls were lined with windows, but the light had been choked out long ago by a waterfall of black curtains. Iron sconces and candelabras with slender white candles dotted the room, doing more to enhance the shadows than provide much light.

She kept her gaze at her feet, not wanting to look at the approaching dais before her, or at the great black throne that crowned the room.

The guards stopped and pitched her forward so fast that she stumbled and fell. She managed to splay out her hands and catch herself before her face could smack into the floor. Pulse after heavy, quick pulse throbbed in her ears. Her heartbeat vibrated throughout her body as she squeezed her lips shut, struggling to control her suddenly labored breathing. She tensed and waited for the dark, smooth voice to address her, but a tiny voice fragile as glass spoke instead.

“Tali?”

Natalia’s head snapped up, and her heart ceased to beat for a second or two before picking up with increased speed.

Two figures – a woman and a young girl no older than eleven – looked down at her from the dais.

The woman was Octavia, High Queen of all Thesperia, and she was beautiful enough to make the most stone-hearted of men weep. Time could not touch her cold beauty; not a wrinkle was seen in her perfect, pearly skin or a gray strand in her long black hair. A cloak of shimmering gauze wrapped around her shoulders, streaming down her slim body and pooling like ink at her feet. On her head sat a tall black crown, its gothic tiers shaped like thorns and embedded with shards of red crystals that seemed to glow in the dim light.

The Queen caught Natalia’s gaze with her violet eyes, and a slow smile spread across her mulberry lips. “Morning, dove. We’ve been waiting for you, haven’t we, precious?”

Octavia trailed a long red nail down the collarbone of the young girl standing beside her, who trembled under her touch. A tattered red dress hung on the girl’s deteriorated figure, secured in the front by two vibrant red ribbons. The Queen shifted her weight, and the girl moved with her, looking like a marionette caught in a puppeteer’s snare. A whimper bubbled out from the girl’s lips. “Shhh,” the Queen murmured, stroking the child’s wild red curls with her free hand. “There’s nothing to be afraid of, my pet.”

Natalia’s jaw clenched.
Pretty, bitter lies.

A sharp pain spread through her palms. She tore her eyes away only long enough to steal a glance at her hands. Apparently, she had squeezed them shut; she was unaware her nails had broken through her skin until sweat had stung the cuts.

Natalia lifted her gaze and stared straight ahead, her spine rigid and her throat tight. “You wanted to see me, my Queen?”

Octavia continued staring at the girl, smiling adoringly with frosted eyes. “Sweet Rose here has something she wants to tell you. Don’t you?”

A tear spilled down Rose’s cheek as her watery green eyes locked with Natalia’s. “I’m sorry, Tali. I didn’t know!”

“Didn’t know what? What’s happened?” Natalia wanted to run forward, snatch her baby sister from that woman’s grasp, and comfort her while singing lullabies into her ear.

Octavia looked at Rose expectantly. The tips of her nails dug into the pale flesh of Rose’s chest, and she let out a sob. Frantic words spilled from her mouth.

“I found it this morning when I first stepped into the hall to come find you. It was just lying there alone in the shadows. I swear I didn’t take it!”

Natalia looked from her sister to the Queen. “I don’t understand,” she said warily.

The Queen held up a finger, silencing her. “Rosemydre,” she said sweetly, “what is the first rule of my house?”

Impossibly, Rose grew paler. “That we do not leave our rooms until we hear the morning bell,” she said.

“Did I miss it?” the Queen asked. “I do tend to be a heavy sleeper. The sentry had a hard time waking me when they caught you.”

“But I didn’t steal –”

“Rose, be quiet!” Natalia snapped.

Rose’s green eyes looked hurt, but she firmly pressed her blood-red lips – the same lips as Natalia’s – into a thin line.

The Queen traced a single, long line across Rose’s chest, leaving behind a bloody rivulet. “You never answered the question, my sweet.”